


Losing my Religion

by Celtic_Nerd



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, My First Smut, OOC Is Serious Business, Post-Break Up, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, Smut, lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25170946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtic_Nerd/pseuds/Celtic_Nerd
Summary: "Oh, life is bigger,It's biggerThan you, and you are not me,The lengths that I will go to,The distance in your eyes,Oh no, I've said too much."Breakups are always hard.
Relationships: Angela Martin/Dwight Schrute
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Losing my Religion

**Author's Note:**

> Losing my Religion.
> 
> (Please see end of work for notes).

I twisted the key in the ignition and the purr of the engine died, leaving the darkness to engulf me. I reached up and adjusted my wing mirror to check my reflection. Sleek, dark blonde shoulder length hair, slightly too narrow hazel eyes framed by overly thin lashes. Aquiline nose and plump lips, slick with peachy gloss. Deceptively natural dewy complexion, actually assisted with layers of foundation and matte blush. Acceptable. My eyes flickered towards the house which sat several metres in front. It looked like a time portal to the 1900’s. Ah well. I wasn’t there to judge the house. I gave a little shake of the head and reached for my purse, thumbing through the side pockets. Somewhere - ah, here. I pulled out a perfectly folded square paper with typed instructions neatly centred in a Times New Roman font. I scanned it briskly. Simple enough. Nothing I couldn't handle. I replaced the paper, and fired off a brief text before sliding the cell into the purse and clasping it shut decisively.

I slid out of the car, closing the door behind me, pausing only to adjust my knee length pencil skirt before striding towards the house, my kitten heels crunching over the peat. I hoped idly I wouldn't trip over any knots of grass - it was hard to believe anyone actually lived out here. I carefully picked my way up the wooden steps of the porch, towards the large double doors flanked with the well polished brass knocker. A light shone from the bay window, festooned with old fashioned floral curtains pulled back with a velvet tie. My fingers reached up and rapped three times with the knocker. I heard a thundering of rapid footsteps, before a second set chimed in, with a harsh voice hissing “Leave it, Mose, I’m expecting a guest!” I made sure to compose my face as the door swung back.

The man at the door was not what I expected. Shorter, stockier, with the most awful haircut I’d seen in some time, old fashioned glasses that looked like they’d come straight out of a pharmacy sale. A long sleeved green shirt, dark brown sweater vest and suit trousers, and a cheap wristwatch completed his outfit. He looked like an overgrown nerd, and didn’t at all match the imposing, softly authoritarian tone I’d heard over the phone.

“Dwight Schrute. I presume you found the ins and outs of our negotiation acceptable.” He spoke softly but briskly, as if he found the words uncomfortable, his gaze boring straight into mine. I nodded crisply.

“Excellent. You may enter. Please remove your shoes.”

“I’d rather not.” I fired back, equally sharp, and stepped over the threshold as if born to it. The door swung shut behind me. Dwight overtook me simply, his gaze flickered up and down once, and then he resumed my gaze. “Your attire is adequate. Beet wine?”

I scoffed, and shook my head. His lips twitched infinitesimally and he gestured towards the living room. “Have a seat.” I inched forward, my eyes roving the room, taking care that he saw my expression of disdain, before I picked my way towards the couch, perching on the very end, knees pressed tightly together, holding my purse on my lap with both hands. Dwight took the overstuffed chair at the opposite end of the room and picked up a half full glass of wine (presumably beet) from the coffee table and took a hasty gulp. My gaze flickered around, taking in the grandfather clock, stuffed animal heads mounted on the wall, roaring fireplace, and sparse furniture. I noticed out of the corner of my eye Dwight’s gaze taking me in again, but more slowly. His eyes roved from the points of my shoes, up my stocking clad legs, over my skirt and sensible pussy bow blouse, up to the black velvet alice band in my hair, pausing at the drop pearls in my earlobes. He suddenly seemed to notice my looking at him again and glanced away at the flames in the grate, idly circling his hand so the wine tipped around the glass.  
I took a breath and spoke. “Do you have to do that?” The pitch of my tone altered towards the end of the sentence, inflecting upward a little, as if raking over old grievances. Dwight’s eyes snapped back to mine, and seemed to flare.

“I wasn’t aware my conduct was bothering you.”

“Everything about you bothers me.”

“Is that so.”

“It is.”

“What exactly is it that bothers you about me?” Dwight stood up and took a step towards me, not lowering his glass. I scoffed again and tossed my head away so my hair flicked towards him, and I saw his breath catch slightly at the blonde wave.

“I don’t see any need to discuss my private life with you.”

“There once was a time we - discussed - many private things.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“I remember it well.” Dwight stood in front of me, his frame towering over mine. I turned and eyeballed him, hard.

“I don’t. I only remember things worth remembering.” Dwight’s eyes narrowed and he slowly stooped to my level, his face inches from mine.

“I seem to recall you finding many things worth remembering about me. About us.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” Dwight’s hands reached out, and his fingers grazed my knee. “Then why are you trembling, Monkey?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“In particular your fondness for me calling you that. Shall I remind you?”

“No.”

“So many occasions, so many moods… the time I cried it midsummer’s night’s eve, when Mose was at the barn dance and we consummated our love in the fourth stall-”

“Dwight-!”

“Or the first time I took you at your home, and you sighed in my ear when I was making sure to be gentle with you-”

“Dwight, stop it - “

“Or how about the very first time I called you it, when we were still at the office, and we kissed, and I had to stoop to grab you and you wound your arms around my neck, and I said it was typical of a baby macquase monkey, and you said that was interesting but did not arouse you, and I explained that cute nicknames were a standard part of a mating ritual, and -”

“DWIGHT.” Dwight’s grip tightened on my knee and he lunged forward, his lips pressing into mine, glasses digging uncomfortably into my face. I gave a startled squeal and my hands reached up to bat frantically at his shoulders, before winding into the material of his sweater vest and tugging.

The next few minutes were a blur - lips and tongues frantically battling for dominance, Dwight panting as his hands roamed my body, tugging at the bow of my blouse so he could press his lips to my collarbone, his fingers pulling my skirt up and running reverently along the skin of my thighs. I could feel his erection firmly against my hip as he twined his body around me. I moaned softly and slid my leg up, hooking a leg around his hip and pressing my molten core to his crotch, where he rewarded me with a full body shudder.  
Not long after this he broke free of our embrace, pausing only to tug me to my feet and hastily make his way upstairs to his bedroom. Fingers made deft work of clothing and soon we were both shucking off our outer clothes and tumbling into his too small bed. I could hear him mumbling “oh monkey, oh monkey I missed you,” as he unfastened my bra. I moaned and thrust my breasts out as he dropped his head to suckle a nipple, his other hand sliding into my panties and circling my clit softly. I reached out and cupped his boxer clad erection softly, feeling him twitch under the material. Finished with one breast, he reached out and began kissing and fondling the other, fingers kneading and squeezing my skin. I quivered with pleasure as his touch ignited something in me, small darts of pleasure shooting down my body, where I felt my outer lips glisten with need. I reached down to try and squeeze and jerk him, but he seized my wrist. I jumped a little and he paused in his ministrations, gave a softly reassuring kiss to my wrist, and laid my hand back, before resuming his attention to my breasts. He continued to kiss and fondle both breasts, alternating between the two, as my moans reached fever pitch, before slowing down and beginning to trail his lips down my stomach.

I bit my lip as his head skimmed between my thighs, feeling his warm breath on my core. I had to school myself not to jump into the air as I felt his warm, wet tongue decisively lick a stripe up my centre. He chuckled softly. “Still so shy, monkey. It’s OK, I’m here.”

“I didn’t ask for a commentary,” I said waspishly, clenching my quivering thighs. Dwight nipped softly at a thigh.

“I can provide you with one if you choose. I missed you very much, and don’t mind admitting to it.”

“I don’t want to hear this.”

“You don’t want to hear how badly I missed you? How I spent nights in here dreaming of your tiny body under mine, but taking my weight so very well? How you seem so delicate and small but you clawed stripes into my back when I didn’t take you where you wanted, when you wanted? How I have never achieved orgasm so spectacularly as when I was with you?”

“Dwight- “ I moaned softly, but he shook his head, his hair rumpled and glasses askew.

“That’s not what I want to hear.”

“What do you want to hear?”

“You know what I want.”

“Dwight - “

“I’ll take you and we can be done with this when you say it.”

“I - I can’t.” Dwight shrugged.

“Then we continue.” He bent his head and pressed his lips firmly to my centre and I moaned, feeling more slick oozing out of my lips at his touch, and blushing as he feverishly lapped at it like a man dying of thirst. It felt like hours that we lay there, Dwight alternating between frantic kissing and lazily lapping, occasionally stroking and curling his fingers inside my hot pussy, slowing every time I reached climax, and allowing the heat to die down before resuming his work. I whimpered, I moaned, I begged, I pleaded - but it didn't pass my lips. Not until I couldn't bear it. Not until the third, fourth time he denied me orgasm. Then I felt it tear past my lips as a resigned gasp “Oh, D, please! Don’t stop! I’m yours! Oh, D!”

Dwight was up in a flash, underwear off to reveal his erection springing free, red and stiff, the head of his cock shiny with fluid. He paused to adjust his length at my entrance before kneeling over me, hands either side of my head, knees straddling my hips, his cock thick and warm against my slick entrance. Bending down, he captured my lips in a fierce kiss as he thrust forward, sinking deep into my pussy. Our almost identikit moans were lost into each other’s mouths, and it took a few seconds before Dwight even started moving, taking his lead from my encouraging wriggle.

“Oh monkey, you feel so good,” Dwight groaned between kisses, his lips wandering from mine, to my cheeks and neck, before burying his head in my shoulder.

“So do you, D,” I bit my lip and dug my fingers deeply into his broad shoulders, which elicited a fresh groan of approval.

“Never ever wanna lose you,” he mumbled, and I shook my head in agreement.

“I’m here,” I gasped. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you, monkey,” he gasped, one hand snaking down and gripping mine, to lift it and pin it over our heads. “I really really love you - don’t ever want to lose you… want you to stay right here with me and bear my children…”

I whimpered in response as he continued, groaning about how beautiful I was, and how good I felt, and how sexy it was to him that I would stay with him and help him raise a family. I moaned and wound both legs around his hips, tightening my thighs and rocking my pelvis back and forth.

“Oh god, monkey, that’s it, that’s it, so close, want you to come with me, know you want this too, gonna come so deep inside you, again and again, until you’re round and glowing with my child, that’s it…”

“D!” I cried, tossing my head back and bucking wildly beneath him as I felt his thrusts growing more erratic. “D, don’t ever stop, no-one has made me feel like this, wanna feel you inside me forever! I love you, D!”

Dwight’s answer was a muffled groan deep in my shoulder, as I felt him throb and pulse inside me, his thrusts slowing down gradually until he ground to a shuddering halt. I felt him slip out of me and felt a warm gush of semen, but he was already there, pressing a handkerchief to my core. I mumbled a thank you as I took it from him and discreetly wiped it away before sitting up.  
Dwight was already sitting on the bed edge, head bent, shoulders hunched, clutching a small porcelain figurine. I quietly began to reach for my clothes, sliding my panties back up my legs and fastening buttons until I was fully clothed. I took a deep breath and turned back to Dwight, who was still sitting in the same position as if made of stone. I bit my lip. This was the awkward part.

“I - “

“Thank you for your time,” he interrupted, and his voice was tight and emotionless again. “I’m sure you can see yourself out. You should find what you require on the adjacent nightstand.” My eyes flickered to the side and indeed, there was a neat stack of hundred dollar bills, bound together with elastic. I reached out and thumbed through the notes, counting silently until satisfied, before scooping the lot into my bra cup.

“Thank you, Mr. Schrute. You know where we are if you require our services again.”

Dwight’s response was a jerk of the head. I decided it was time to see myself out. Clients could get funny after they’d blown their load - especially ones clearly hurting from their own private business. At least this one had the good sense to keep his own drama to myself and not inflict it on our business relationship. I turned and picked my way out, trying to open the door with minimal noise. I turned as I slid through and began to close the door. As it creaked shut behind me, I was almost certain I heard a sob.

I let my breath out in a big gush as I made my way back to the car. I never relaxed fully until I was in my car, doors locked, after seeing a client. I didn’t make it this far without having some smarts. Although this guy seemed harmless enough, he wouldn't be the first nutjob to snap following a heartbreak. And there clearly had been a heartbreak. I scoffed a little at the memory of his requests as I slid into the driver’s seat, car door snapping shut after me, and immediately locking the door. I started the engine and paused to check my cell for messages and fire another text to Linda, advising I was safe from the house and would be heading home myself. Vital part of the job. As I replaced the cell, my fingers nudged the paper, and, uncharacteristically, I slid it back out and smoothed it open.

DWIGHT K SCHRUTE’S LIST OF DESIRABLE ATTRIBUTES AND REQUIREMENTS FOR ROLE.

MUST BE 5’4 OR LESS, BLONDE HAIRED, HAZEL EYES, PETITE FIGURE.  
DRESSED IN CONSERVATIVE OFFICE WEAR.

FOLLOWING BEHAVIOURAL TRAITS NECESSARY:

SENSE OF GRANDIOSE BEHAVIOUR, WILLING TO ACT AS IF EVERYTHING BENEATH THEM, REMINISCENT OF ARISTOCRATIC SOCIETY CIRCA 1800’S.

INITIAL RELUCTANCE TO ENGAGE IN SEXUAL ACTS - HISTORY OF REPRESSION FROM YEARS OF CATHOLIC SCHOOLING.

THIS MELTING AWAY TO GENUINE DESIRE - THIS IS NOT A ROLEPLAY OF UNWANTED PHYSICAL CONTACT.

WHEN BECOMING ENGAGED IN SEXUAL INTIMACY, NICKNAME OF “D” TO BE USED.

WILLINGNESS TO FOLLOW MY LEAD IN VERBOSITY VIS A VIS SEXUAL INTERCOURSE.

WILL ANSWER TO THE NAME OF MONKEY.

PLEASE DON’T ASK FOR AN EXPLANATION.

SUFFICE IT TO SAY, I AM NOT A ZOOPHILE.

IT’S CUTER IN PERSON, I SWEAR.

NOT THAT IT MAKES ANY DIFFERENCE FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND.

I scoffed and tossed the instructions back into my purse. What a weirdo, I thought, pulling out of the drive and beginning the journey home. I couldn't help but wonder if Dwight Schrute would contact the agency again for another meeting. He had seemed at first grimly resigned as if being forced to do this, but it was as plain as day the man was just lonely. As much as I found him a strange one, he was by far not the worst I’d ever had. And definitely not a bad lay. Too bad for whoever this Monkey was - she was definitely missing out on something.

**Author's Note:**

> So, my boyfriend and I binge watched the US Office for the first time in a little over three weeks and I fell in love with the show, these characters, and somehow smashed this smutty OOC oneshot out. Yeah, I don’t get it either. Can I blame covid-19 for this?
> 
> I appreciate it is likely seen as incredibly OOC for Dwight to pay for a call girl, but within the context of the show at this point, he is seriously depressed, and has lost his girlfriend of two years. I was actually inspired by moment when Dwight is crying alone at night and holding Angela’s figurine. We all do crazy things when we’re in love!
> 
> Constructive criticism welcome, I am incredibly meh about the smut. It’s the first time I’ve written anything like this and I’m well aware it’s flawed, but this plot bunny wasn’t going anywhere so why not, eh.


End file.
